


Rebound

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:11:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fresh from her breakup with Jimmy Stone, Rose encounters a stranger and a mystery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rebound

Rose Tyler stumbled through the darkness, the tears on her face lost in the rain. Somewhere behind her was the Radfordshire Spring Festival, though by now all she could sense of it was the distant thump of the bass line, more felt than heard. She wasn't picturing the stage, the swarms of tents clustering around it, the stalls or the throng of people. One image dominated her feelings, to the exclusion of all others, lodged in her heart like a shard of ice. 

Her trainers skidded on the waterlogged ground; not for the first time since she'd set out, she found herself sprawling in the mud. As she wearily dragged herself to her feet once more, filthy and shivering, she heard the beep of her wristwatch. That must be midnight. It was her eighteenth birthday. 

A few hours ago, she'd been on top of the world. Jimmy had been confident that this was the festival where they'd meet the right people and strike the right deal. This time, everything would work out for him; and of course Rose, as his muse, would be by his side all the way to the top. She'd seen him talking to the talent scout from Bertram Records, and his grin of triumph afterwards. 

They'd had a drink to celebrate, and then Rose had agreed to queue at a food stall. Thinking back, it was hideously obvious that he'd sent her away, on an errand he thought would keep her busy. How had she been so blind? 

(In the near-total darkness, she almost collided with what felt like a cattle trough. She groped her way past the obstacle, though by now she was soaked to the skin anyway. If she had fallen in, she wouldn't have ended up that much wetter than she was already). 

If Jimmy hadn't happened to choose pizza as the food he wanted, he'd probably have got away with it. But by some twist of fate, the queue at the pizza stall had been tiny, and in minutes Rose had been heading for their tent, a spring in her step and a song in her heart. She'd pushed the tent flap aside... 

... to see Jimmy in the process of 'sealing the deal' with Bertram Records' talent scout. 

It had been bad enough seeing far more of the woman than Rose had ever wanted to. But it had been the expression on Jimmy's face, as he looked round at Rose, that had smashed her heart into a thousand pieces. She'd thrown the pizza box down, turned, and run. She was still running — well, walking as fast as she could — but she couldn't get away from what was in her head. Her mother, and Shareen, and Mickey, and everyone had been right, and she'd been wrong. Jimmy had played her for a fool, probably ruined her life, and thrown her away the moment he got bored with her. 

Rose lost her footing again, and once more felt wet grass against her face. This time she didn't get up immediately; her chilled, weary limbs didn't seem to be working properly. Maybe she should just give up. Lie here and let the cold and the rain take her. Here lies Rose Tyler, threw her life away for the sake of some bloke who didn't care about her. 

If Rose hadn't spotted the fire, she might well have taken herself up on that suggestion. But she did; a flicker of light caught her eye, a little to one side of the direction she was heading. Maybe she should go there. If she was going to die of a broken heart, she might at least do it somewhere warm. 

The fire, when she reached it, was the sort of campfire Rose had seen much more in children's books and comics than in reality. A section of turf had been cut out, stones carefully placed to form a circle, and within the circle a number of small logs were burning. Close by, the light of the fire illuminated some kind of temporary shelter, by the look of it built entirely of fallen branches. 

Rose stumbled forward, but before she could reach the fire somebody caught her from behind. She could feel a knife pricking her ribs, and a low voice, barely audible over the rain and wind, whispered "Stand verra still. Now then, who are you and what are you doing here?" 

"Are you gonna kill me?" Rose asked. "I don't care. Go on and do it." 

"Jist answer the question," the voice replied patiently. 

"I'm Rose Tyler." Rose found it was an effort to stop her teeth from chattering — whether from cold or fear, she wasn't sure. "I'm passing through, that's all." 

"A traveller, aye?" The knife was gone, and a moment later a figure stepped into the firelight: a young man, wearing some kind of sleeveless jacket, a kilt, and boots. He wouldn't have looked out of place at the festival, Rose thought, though she couldn't remember anyone there wearing Highland costume. His expression was difficult to make out in the flickering firelight. 

"Yeah," Rose said. "Look, I'm frozen stiff and wet through. I just wanted to sit by the fire for a bit." 

He put his hand on her arm. "Och, you're soaked through, right enough. You come in here out of the rain." 

Numbly, Rose allowed herself to be led into the improvised shelter, which was barely big enough for the two of them. 

"It's no good you wearing those clothes," the man went on. "You'll freeze before morning. Get them off and get under that." 

In the dim firelight, all Rose could make out of 'that' was what looked like a heap of animal skins. It looked pretty awful, but when you came down to it, she _was_ soaked through and chilly enough that her hands were beginning to feel numb. Slowly and awkwardly, she stripped down to her underwear. _Undressing in front of a strange man,_ she thought. _What would Mum say? Well, probably 'He's mine, I saw him first.'_

"That's right," the man said. He thoughtfully wrung out Rose's jacket, producing a sizeable quantity of muddy water. "Now get in there and have a wee rest." 

With even more difficulty, Rose squirmed into the heap of skins. It was blessedly warm; in the face of that, her previous objections seemed trivial. 

"Now you jist stay there for a bit," the man said. "It's not a good night to be out. And if you hear anything funny, stay in here and you'll be safe." 

"What's your name?" Rose mumbled. 

He'd started to crawl backwards out of the shelter, but paused briefly. "Jamie. Jamie McCrimmon." 

⁂

Despite the shelter and despite the skins, Rose was cold again. By the sound of things the rain had slackened, but as if to compensate, the wind had risen to what sounded like a full gale. Cold air was whistling around her, seeking out the smallest gap in the skins, and her damp hair felt positively icy. 

With a groan, she tried to pull her covers closer, but it didn't seem to help. She wondered what time it was. The thudding of music from the festival seemed to have stopped — she wasn't sure when that had happened — and the light was so dim that she couldn't see the face of her watch. 

Suddenly, she heard a sound that froze her blood far more effectively than the wind or the rain had. It was a howl — definitely a sound made by an animal, rather than some trick of the wind. Rose didn't know what sort of creature would make such a noise, but what she did know was that it scared her rigid. _Was that a wolf?_ she wondered. _What do wolves sound like, anyway?_

_But there aren't any wolves in England,_ she tried to reassure herself. 

_Tell that to what's out there,_ the thought came back. 

Holding her breath, she closed her eyes and listened with all her concentration, trying to hear the stealthy sound of some ferocious creature creeping up to where she lay. But the wind defeated all her efforts; its gusts would have drowned out ten or a dozen wolves, let alone one. 

Another howl rent the night, followed a moment later by a cry of 'Creag an Tuire!'. Cries and thumps struggled with the sound of the wind, then stopped abruptly. Then something crawled into the shelter, a darker shadow against the blackness, warm and panting. It moved toward Rose, and fur brushed against her face. 

Despite herself, Rose screamed. 

"Easy now. Easy." It was Jamie's voice. 

"Oh!" Rose flung her arms around him, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. "What happened?" His sleeve felt damp and sticky, and among the odours of wet wool and leather she couldn't miss the metallic scent of blood. "Are you hurt?" 

"That's not my blood," Jamie assured her, stroking her hair. 

"Then what was it?" Rose almost shrieked. "Or who? Tell me it wasn't a who." 

"No, it wasnae a person. It's gone now, Rose. It'll not come back. Ye can sleep safely now." 

He made to draw away, but Rose clung onto him. 

"Don't go," she said. "I don't want to be alone. It's so cold in here." _That sounds so like the sort of cheesy chat-up line Mum would use,_ she privately added. 

Cheesy or not, it worked; Jamie removed his heavy boots and climbed into the heap of sheepskins beside her. Rose wriggled as close to him as she could. _In bed with a strange man,_ she thought. _Anything could happen._ And, she realised, she wouldn't say 'no' if it did. 

She shifted her position again. 

"What was that thing, really?" she whispered. "Did you kill it?" 

"Just some night beastie," Jamie replied, trying and failing to sound casual. "Something that shouldnae have been here." 

"And you fought it? I was so scared I couldn't breathe." Rose could feel her heart pounding once more, though it certainly wasn't through fear. "You're really brave." 

On an impulse, she tried to kiss him, though given the dark and their respective positions it took a certain amount of fumbling before she found his mouth. The kiss left her in no doubt that he wanted more, just as she did. 

"And what are you, Rose Tyler?" he asked. "Just a bold lass who kens what she wants? Nothing more?" 

"Just that," Rose said, already working at the fastenings of his sleeveless jacket. "And what she wants is you." 

"Och, temptation." She felt his hands sliding down her back. "I was never any good at resisting that." 

"I thought I was," Rose murmured. "S'pose I was wrong." 

⁂

When she eventually woke the following morning, Rose had half-expected to find herself on the cold hillside, with no sign that Jamie or his bivouac had ever been there. But she woke in the same heap of skins, with the sounds and smells of cooking close at hand. Her clothes had been left beside her, now more or less dry and with the worst of the mud scraped off them. She hastily pulled them on and crawled out into the morning light. Jamie was crouching over the fire, frying what appeared to be bacon. There was no trace of whatever she'd heard howling in the night, apart from a few stained, rusty patches of grass near the shelter. 

"Hello," she said, sounding stupidly shy in her own ears. 

"Hello," Jamie repeated. He, too, seemed to be avoiding meeting her eye. 

There was a moment's mutual embarrassment. 

"About last night—" Jamie began. 

"What we did—" Rose started to say, at the same moment. 

With his free hand, Jamie indicated that she should continue. 

Rose took a deep breath. "Last night. It... I liked it. I _needed_ it. But I don't know what to do now. I don't know who you are or anything." 

"I'm just..." Jamie concentrated on his bacon. "A traveller. If you'd been here the day before or the day after you'd never have met me. If you came here again you'd not find me. So." He took a deep breath of his own. "If you want me to make an honest woman of you, you'll have to come with me now." 

" _An honest woman?_ " Rose repeated, scarcely able to believe her ears. "Look, I'm not— it wasn't— I don't—" She squared her shoulders. "I'm not going anywhere with you, and that's that." 

He gave a regretful half-smile. "We had a night, at least. That's a night more than many have." With the tip of his dagger, he plucked a piece of bacon from his frying pan and held it out to her. His smile broadened. "Bacon?" 

"Thanks." Rose, realising how hungry she felt, gulped the meat down. 

"You'll not get into trouble?" Jamie asked. "With your family, I mean." 

"There's only my mum. And yeah, she'll probably moan a bit, but that's all. She's a fine one to talk, anyway. And after Jimmy Stone—" She stopped, with a little gasp. "I'd forgotten him. Broke up with him yesterday and already I'd forgotten him. That's how good you are." 

"Or how bad he was?" Jamie suggested. 

"Yeah, that too. But yeah, thanks for, you know, last night. And the bacon and everything. But I ought to be—" 

Jamie held up the pan. "There's more bacon if you're still hungry." 

"What do you think?" Rose asked, grinning despite herself. 

⁂

Jamie had insisted on walking Rose to the station, and they'd kissed goodbye just outside the entrance. He'd also given her money for the train fare home — having dug it out of his sporran and pulled the right notes out of a bundle of random money, hardly any of which Rose recognised. From just inside the door of the station, she'd watched him walk away. Halfway down the road, he was joined by another man wearing a shabby coat and checked trousers, and the two stayed together until they were out of sight. 

Once Jamie and his mysterious partner were gone, Rose walked into the station, to all appearances just another grubby, exhausted festivalgoer. The second man must be Jamie's boss, she decided. He'd debrief Jamie, and then presumably send him on global troubleshooting missions. And if she'd taken Jamie up on his offer to marry her — _marry_ her! — she'd be part of that world by now. 

All the way back to Peckham, she found herself wondering how things might have gone differently. If Jamie had offered her a job rather than a proposal; if it hadn't been mere hours since she'd walked out on her boyfriend; if they'd had longer to get to know each other... 

Still, her choice was made now, Rose decided, as she walked from her local station to the Powell Estate. It wasn't likely that she'd ever run into Jamie again. Best not to mention him to her mother at all. The whole Jimmy Stone fiasco would be quite enough to be going on with. 

Not without a pang of regret for what might have been, she dismissed the lingering thoughts of Jamie from her mind.


End file.
